


Hero Worship

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Detroit Tigers, Double Drabble, Gen, Hero Worship, Male Friendship, Not Beta Read, Spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You learn from me.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero Worship

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be basically a ~love letter~ to Miguel Cabrera but I figure I'm never going to finish it so I might as well stick it up here.
> 
> The title doesn't really fit but meh.
> 
> [This](http://nullrefer.com/?https://dekeysersoze.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/x1600-21.jpg) is Nick. He may actually (and probably does) know quite a bit of Spanish as he's Cuban-American, but for the purposes of this drabble thing, he doesn't.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Nick realizes he’s really arrived when Miguel Cabrera— _Miguel Cabrera_! Nick grew up worshipping Miguel Cabrera!—walks up to him in the middle of camp, a baseball bat casually slung over one shoulder, and starts chatting at him in rapid fire Spanish. Nick only knows the basics—how to say _hola_ , _por favor_ , _adiós_ , _jonrón_ but nothing much more than that—and he can only stare at Cabrera, nod along like he understands, until Cabrera comes to a screeching halt.

“You no speak Spanish?” Cabrera says in halting, lilting English that sounds almost musical to Nick's ears. The bat droops a little over his right shoulder.

“No,” Nick says, apologetically. “ _Perdóname_.” He knows that much, at least.

Cabrera’s face brightens anyway and he loops a big, thick arm around Nick’s neck. When Nick glances sidewards, he can see dark gray ink coiling its way around Cabrera’s massive forearm. 

“I teach you Spanish.” Cabrera lets Nick go and thumps him in the center of his chest with an index finger, flashing a grin at him that disappears almost as quickly. He nods, serious now, like teaching Nick Spanish is as important to him as winning another Triple Crown, another MVP. “You learn from me.”

Nick lets Cabrera tug him into his chest again and ducks his head to hide his grin.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
